The Curse of Dumbledore
by SwordsMaster231
Summary: Did you ever wonder how Harry Potter survived Voldemort's killing curse? Or the abuse of the Dursley's? Or fighting a troll in his first year at Hogwarts? It wasn't blood magic, or luck, or even love. The truth... is far more sinister.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

* * *

" _Albus... what a pleasant surprise. I must say, I didn't expect to see you here on this particular night."_

" **We both know the prophecy, Tom. It wasn't a matter of when you would act, but whom you would pursue."**

" _Of course, how could I forget... Why are you here, Albus? Surely you don't think you can stop me now."_

" **No. I can't stop you. But I won't let you kill an innocent child."**

" _You're one to talk of innocence, Albus. You preach good will and compassion, yet you constantly connive, lie, and cheat to get what you want."_

" **It's for the greater good."**

" _Ah yes... the greater good. Tell me, Albus, how many people must die for your vision?"_

" **Enough. If you try to kill Harry Potter, you will be making a grave mistake."**

" _Oh? And why is that, pray tell?"_

" **I have done what I must to protect him from harm."**

" _Another pawn in your game, I see. It matters not what ward you placed over him, Albus. Even you cannot stop the killing curse."_

" **No. I cannot... but I can alter it."**

" _I thought you were leaving. And you best do so, before you anger me further."_

With less than a whisper, Albus Dumbledore disappeared from Godric's Hollow, a place that he knew would soon become very famous. He waited in the Headmaster's Office of Hogwarts, pacing back and forth impatiently as the hourglass slowly spilled golden sand. Suddenly, the sand turned black and froze in place. Albus smiled slightly as the hourglass tipped itself over and began anew, the sand shifting back to gold. His spell had worked. Unfortunately, he was not a patient man. And all he had left to do now... was wait.

* * *

Harry Potter was four-years-old when it happened for the first time. Or at least... the first time he could remember. He was sitting in his cupboard under the stairs, as usual, and he was playing with what few toys he had. Most were little figurines, like army men or horse riders. But he had managed to get his hands on a small, toy truck. He wasn't sure how it got there... All he knew was that he saw Dudley playing with it and he wanted to play with it, too. Then, he heard and felt the footsteps of his Uncle Vernon. The whole staircase shook with his weight as he came stomping down like an elephant.

"POTTER! YOU LITTLE BASTARD THIEF!" He shouted at the top of his lungs.

Harry froze in fear. He didn't have time to hide the toy truck before his Uncle opened the cupboard door and yanked him out into the hall.

"I knew it! You stole our precious Dudley's favorite toy! And you used your filthy magic no less!" He shuddered, ripping the truck from Harry's grasp.

Harry could only flail helplessly as Vernon grabbed him by the neck, holding him up against the wall and crushing his windpipe with those meaty fists. Vernon's face was red with rage and was slowly turning purple as he grew more and more angry.

"I'VE HAD ENOUGH OF YOUR FREAKINESS, BOY!" Vernon bellowed at the top of his lungs, spittle flying from his mouth.

Harry kicked and struggled, feeling his lungs burning for oxygen as he gasped for breath. The vice grip on his neck, however, allowed no such reprieve. Slowly but surely, as Vernon turned purple, Harry turned blue and eventually stopped squirming in the large man's grip. When the boy was finally limp, Vernon released him and watched him fall to the ground with a sickening thud. He sighed heavily, wiping away the sweat that had accumulated on his head.

"PETUNIA!" He bellowed, leaving the limp Harry in the hall as he waddled back upstairs. "I found our precious Dudley's favorite toy!"

* * *

The golden sand in the hourglass faded to black, freezing in place. A moment passed before it turned itself over, black fading to gold as the sand began spilling again.

* * *

Harry Potter woke up with a sudden gasp, hyperventilating and sweating profusely. He fumbled around for a moment before he found the light and turned it on. He looked around the small cupboard, seeing those small figurines... but no toy truck. He didn't want it anymore. Not after that terrible dream... He swallowed several times, feeling his throat with his hands. It had seemed so real... But it had to be a dream. He was still alive, after all. He often had nightmares about Uncle Vernon beating him, but never had they gone as far as... death. This was Harry's first experience with that word. Or at least... the first time he could remember. Unfortunately, there would be many more to come.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

* * *

Harry Potter was seven-years-old. He still slept in the cupboard under the stairs and he was starting to think that wasn't very good for him... Still, he was too scared to try getting out. Not that he could anyway. Uncle Vernon had put several locks and bolts on the door before he could walk or talk. Speaking of talking, he wasn't allowed to do much of that either. Anything he said was considered some sort of personal insult or backtalk. It was no surprise that Harry was extremely bored. He wished he could go outside and play, just one time.

Suddenly, Harry felt a strange sensation. Strange, but somehow familiar... like he had felt it before. His arms got goosebumps and his hair stood on end as the air around him felt all tingly, almost like an electric charge. There was a bright flash and Harry shielded his eyes, uncovering them slowly as his eyes adjusted. The dark, dusty closet probably wasn't very good on his eyes either. However, it didn't look like he was in the closet anymore. His mouth gaped open and he actually smiled as he looked around. There was his house- or rather, the Dursley's house- and he was sitting in the backyard. The grass was neatly trimmed, tickling his legs and hands. The sun was high overhead, clouds occasionally obscuring it and giving him a view of the expansive blue sky.

He could hear the sounds of birds chirping and squirrels chittering in the trees. He could even catch the faint smell of cinnamon coming from somewhere. Ah cinnamon... he loved that smell. His Aunt Petunia didn't cook with it often, probably because she knew he enjoyed it. So where could it be coming from? He followed his nose, standing up and making his way over to the white picket fence. He wasn't yet tall enough to look over it, so he peered through the cracks. It was an eerily similar backyard and house, the big differences being the freshly baked cinnamon rolls sitting on the windowsill to cool. Harry wondered if that was entirely safe. After all, any sort of animal could come over and snatch one... His mouth began to water. He wouldn't dare sneak into the neighbor's yard, but if he could just have one of those cinnamon rolls... Harry felt that electricity coursing through him again and before he even knew what happened, he held a cinnamon roll in his hands.

He expected it to burn him, but it seemed it had cooled enough. He gave the biggest grin in his young life and took a huge bite. It was the most amazing thing he had ever eaten. Then again, he only ever got to eat the scraps leftover by the Dursleys. He didn't know a lot about family, only that those people didn't treat him like Dudley... He got to eat whatever he wanted just by asking. Harry had to beg just to be given table scraps. It was enough to drive a person mad. But Harry wasn't mad. At least... he hoped he wasn't going mad. Strange things had been happening with him lately. Even he could see that. His short reverie was interrupted by a loud scream and he whipped around to see Aunt Petunia standing at the backdoor, gaping at him in disbelief and anger.

"You little pest! How did you get out?!" She hissed, not wanting to be overheard by the neighbors.

She stormed over to him, grabbing his arm and ripping the half-eaten cinnamon roll from his hand.

"Where did you get this?!" She gasped. "You STOLE it, didn't you?!"

Harry tried to object but she slapped him hard across the face, silencing him before he could even get a word out.

"Don't you talk back to me! I'm going to teach you a lesson in manners!" She huffed, tossing the perfectly good roll on the ground and dragging him back inside.

Harry didn't struggle. He knew that just made it worse. Crying would too, so he didn't do that either, but the pain usually broke him, which of course meant more punishment... A vicious cycle. Aunt Petunia dragged him to the downstairs bathroom, shoving him to his knees and forcing his head close to the water in the toilet.

"Spit it back up! NOW!" She demanded.

Harry was shaking as he pulled a familiar trick, sticking his finger into the back of his mouth, forcing himself to vomit into the toilet. The Dursley's often made him do this if they thought he ate too much... which was often. Salty tears ran down his face as he kept retching and vomiting until his stomach was completely empty. He couldn't throw up any more. Aunt Petunia wasn't convinced, shoving his head down into the now murky toilet water. Harry started flailing, trying to get a grip and pull himself out, but his arms were far too weak. He couldn't even hear what Aunt Petunia was saying, he just knew she was screaming at him.

It wasn't long before Harry ran out of air, taking in a lungful of toilet water and vomit, forcing him to retch again at the taste. Another vicious cycle as he continued flailing and kicking helplessly. A minute passed and he could feel himself getting weaker, more tired... If he just closed his eyes for a second, he was sure the pain would be over. His chest felt so heavy, the water in his lungs stopping his breath as he finally stopped moving. Petunia huffed, flushing the toilet and yanking the boy's body into the tub. It would have to stay there until she could clean it. She left the bathroom, shutting off the light and locking the door behind her, leaving the cold, dead body of Harry behind.

* * *

The golden sand in the hourglass faded to black, freezing in place. A moment passed before it turned itself over, black fading to gold as the sand began spilling again.

* * *

Harry Potter woke up with a gasp, immediately sitting up and coughing violently out of instinct. He stopped suddenly when he realized his lungs weren't filled with polluted water. He looked around the small, dark cupboard, confused. What just happened? Was it a dream? He fumbled for his glasses- the only things the Dursleys ever got him, if only to prevent him from breaking things. He blinked a few times as he turned on the light, sniffing the air carefully. He could faintly catch the scent of cinnamon. His eyes widened as he peeked out through the cupboard, looking left and right before testing it. It was locked tight. He sat back on the bed, running his fingers through his hair.

"It's exactly the same..." He whispered to himself, lips trembling.

Everything was exactly the same as when he woke up before... Before? How could this be possible? He pulled his hands away from his head and looked at them closely. Had he done this? He knew strange things were happening with him but... this felt different. Like it was something else entirely. He didn't understand what was going on. At any rate, he was thankful to be alive... though he wasn't happy at all about these recurring nightmares. He could only remember one other nightmare where it felt real... where it felt like he died. It's not like he could test it. And even if he could, he didn't want to.

"What's happening to me?" He whimpered, covering his eyes and laying back down with a whimper.

He just didn't understand.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

* * *

Harry Potter was ten-years old. He physically couldn't fit in the cupboard under the stairs anymore, thank goodness, so the Dursleys were forced to let him sleep elsewhere. He thought they would have made him sleep on the floor in the kitchen or on the couch in the living room. To his surprise, they let him sleep in Dudley's old room. He soon found out why. The place was a downright mess! No, it was more than that... it was a pig stye. There was trash everywhere, old clothes scattered about- some of which he doubted Dudley ever washed- and he thought he saw a few bugs skitter away when he opened the door.

He sighed. It was better than nothing. One thing he had gotten good at over the years was cleaning. The Dursleys basically used him as their personal slave, so he also got good at cooking, gardening, and other laborious jobs. At first they didn't trust him with any of it, but once they realized they could use him to lessen their own workload, the decision was almost immediate. He did almost all the yard work aside from tending the gardens, which Petunia still insisted he stay far away from. He mowed the lawn, trimmed the hedges, swept the driveway, cleaned the gutters, and on and on and on. This disaster of a room was just another job to him and he got right to work.

He quickly grabbed a trash bag from downstairs, one of the few things he wouldn't get yelled at or beaten for doing without asking. He first picked up all the trash in the room, along with any un-salvageable clothing. The rest he separated into a 'wash' pile. He went downstairs, tossing out the garbage and starting up a load of laundry before heading back upstairs with cleaning supplies. Lord knows that room needed it. He started with cleaning the floors, running a wet mop over the area and drying it a few minutes later. After that, he swept and dusted every corner of the room. He pulled the blinds, letting the sun shine into the room as he worked. He actually felt a little happy with his progress.

He didn't linger too long, though, quickly taking it all back downstairs once he was finished. By then the wash cycle had been finished, so he moved the waterlogged clothes over to the dryer and started a load. That wouldn't be done for a while, so he decided to head outside and see if there was anything else Petunia wanted him to do. To his surprise, he didn't immediately see her when he went outside. Odd, she was almost always in the garden on sunny days like this. However, he did see Dudley coming up the road with a few friends of his. Oh no... was it that time already? He quickly ducked back inside, but it was too late. They had seen him. 'Harry Hunting' had begun.

For Dudley, it was his favorite pass time. Like a national sport or a drinking contest. For Harry, it was a race against time until his daily beating or worse. He had a bad feeling about this particular session of Harry Hunting... He had been doing a lot of thinking these past few years. He had even taken to keeping a secret journal, writing all his thoughts and theories into it. He didn't have any proof, of course, but he suspected the nightmares he'd had... The nightmares of his own death... Were premonitions of what COULD happen, not what WILL happen. Another theory was that these events did happen and then, somehow, Harry traveled back in time earlier the same day or even the same week, at which point he would avoid the circumstances that led up to it. How was this possible? He still didn't know.

He hid in the closet of Dudley's old, freshly cleaned room. The cupboard under the stairs was too obvious and this was the only spot Harry could think of on short notice. He listened silently, holding his breath as he heard the troublesome trio burst in through the front door, fanning out through the house. They were searching every room. Eventually they all plodded upstairs, shouting and hollering to each other. Finally, Harry heard the door to his new room open and he froze. He couldn't hear them cheering or caterwauling anymore. Instead they were laughing and snickering, a very bad sign for him.

"We know you're in here, Hawwy Hawwy Hawwy." Dudley called out teasingly, his thick, booted feet clomping across the floor.

Harry tried not to hyperventilate as he heard them getting closer to the closet door.

"We checked every other room in the house... There's just one place left."

Harry covered his mouth, trying to stifle his whimper as the footsteps stopped just outside the door.

"GOTCHA!" Dudley opened the door swiftly and suddenly, reaching in and tossing Harry out of the closet.

He landed on the hard, wooden floor with a cry of pain, feeling bruises already forming on his frail body. He looked up shakily to see Dudley's two hooligan friends, both rearing back and kicking him as hard as they could. Harry cried out in pain again, feeling one of his ribs break as the boys mercilessly stomped him into the ground. He couldn't hear Dudley approach over the sounds of his own suffering, only crying out louder as Dudley pulled his arm behind his back and broke it like a twig.

"What's the matter Potter?! Can't handle the pain?" Dudley jeered, using Harry's now broken arm to choke the young boy.

A sudden clarity shot through Harry's mind despite the pain. He had experienced this twice before. He had choked to death... or rather, been strangled and drowned by Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia. And he was about to be asphyxiated by Dudley as well. What was it with these people and choking their victims? Harry didn't know. But that's all he could think about as he felt his bones breaking, his consciousness fading, the blood seeping from his body and staining the once clean floor. He was a bloody pulp by the time Dudley and his friends were finished. They spit on the broken, mangled corpse before laughing and snickering, leaving the room and locking it behind them.

* * *

The golden sand in the hourglass faded to black, freezing in place. A moment passed before it turned itself over, black fading to gold as the sand began spilling again.

* * *

Harry Potter woke gasping for breath once again, but dared not move for fear of further damaging his mangled body. To his surprise, he was completely fine. Or rather, he was just passed out on the floor of Dudley's old room. He sat up slowly and looked around, noticing that the cleaning supplies were still there... It all came flooding back to him. He raced downstairs, though was still careful not to be too loud. He put the supplies back where they belonged and tossed the load of laundry over to the dryer. Then he went and peaked out the front window, watching as Dudley and his gang sauntered down the street. He waited until they were out of sight before breathing a sigh of relief.

He trudged back upstairs slowly, his mind working a mile a minute. He was finally starting to understand. Of course, it was only the basics, but now he was starting to make a connection... Whenever he died, it was like time would reverse and give him a second chance. Or third chance... how many times had he done this? And how many times would he be able to do it? Questions for later. He ran back to his new room and locked the door, sliding to the floor with his back to the door. He wasn't sure if he should feel happy or sad... scared or relieved. This ability... this power... Was it a blessing or a curse?

He didn't know.


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

* * *

Harry Potter woke up to the sound of banging on his door and the shrill voice of his Aunt Petunia.

"Wake up! Wake up, NOW!" She yelled before storming away.

He sat up slowly, rubbing his eyes and fumbling for his glasses. He yawned as he looked around the mostly empty room. The Dursleys hadn't given him any furniture. No bed, no dresser, no hangers for his closet. Not that he needed them, he barely had any clothes anyway. He was just standing up when the door suddenly flew open. There stood Dudley, all dressed up and hair combed as he sneered at Harry.

"Come on, Potter. We're going to the zoo. You should fit right in with the exhibits." He guffawed loudly at his own joke before clomping downstairs.

Harry sighed slightly as he got dressed in Dudley's old clothes. He'd better get downstairs and make breakfast before Uncle Vernon started yelling. Once he started, Harry would no doubt get a beating for disobeying. It didn't make it any better that today was Dudley's birthday. Harry was sure they would be looking for any reason to punish him. He quickly made his way down into the kitchen, watching as Petunia fawned over the birthday boy. She turned and glanced at him with a disgusted look.

"Start cooking breakfast already! And don't burn anything!" She demanded.

"Yes, Aunt Petunia." Harry replied in a completely neutral tone.

Anything more or less would be seen as an insult or backtalk and, of course, would lead to a beating. He had gotten very good at keeping his replies short, sweet, and exactly what they wanted to hear.

"Hurry up! Bring my coffee, boy!" Uncle Vernon demanded as Petunia was leading Dudley over to the mountain of presents in the corner.

"Yes, Uncle Vernon." Harry replied again, quickly bringing over the pitcher and pouring it carefully into a cup.

"How many are there?!" Dudley asked shrilly, though not nearly as shrill as his mother Petunia.

Harry tried not to cringe, paying attention to the job at hand. There was a brief back and forth between the spoiled brat and his enabling parents as Harry went back into the kitchen, getting plates of food ready for everyone. Breakfast went by as normal. Harry went and sat on the stairs until they were finished, trying to stop the rumbling in his stomach. Finally, it came time to go to the zoo. Harry was slightly surprised that they were letting him come too, but he figured it was because they didn't want to leave him alone in their house. Vernon stopped him before he could get in the car.

"I'm warning you, boy... Any funny business and you won't get any food for a month. Understand?" He whispered vehemently.

"Yes, sir." Harry replied with a simple nod.

He couldn't tell if Uncle Vernon was happy with that response, but he didn't say anything else, simply getting in the driver's seat as Harry climbed in the back with Dudley.

* * *

The trip to the zoo was uneventful. They wandered around, looking at different exhibits as Dudley demanded. Eventually they went into the reptile house and came across a large python curled up on a log. They watched for a minute, but the snake didn't do anything.

"Make him move!" Dudley whined.

Uncle Vernon leaned forward and tapped on the glass. Nothing happened. Dudley then banged on it loudly.

"MOVE!" He shouted. Still nothing. "This is boring..." Dudley sighed, walking away from the exhibit.

Vernon and Petunia trailed behind, but Harry hung back for a moment.

"Sorry about that... He just doesn't understand." Harry spoke to the snake softly. "He doesn't know what it's like to have ugly people stuffing their faces at you day after day."

To his surprise, the snake started to move and... did it just wink at him? No, he must be imagining it.

"Can... can you hear me?" He asked in disbelief.

The snake surprised him once again as it nodded, raising itself up slightly. This was incredible!

"I guess you don't get many people talking to you?" Harry asked.

The snake shook its head.

"You're from Burma, aren't you? Is it nice there? Do you miss your family?" Harry didn't know why he was asking all these questions.

Maybe because he was lonely... He didn't have anyone else to talk to. The snake looked towards the edge of the exhibit and Harry followed its gaze. He frowned slightly as he saw a sign that read "Bred in Captivity".

"I'm sorry... I know how you feel. I never knew my parents, either." Harry replied, looking back at the snake.

He was suddenly shoved out of the way by Dudley, apparently excited that the snake was finally doing something. Harry grunted as he landed on the floor, glaring up at Dudley, pressing his face up to the glass like an oversized pig. Harry briefly wondered what would happen if that glass would disappear... He felt that familiar sensation again. That electricity coursing through his veins and in the air around him. His eyes widened as the glass suddenly DID disappear, causing Dudley to fall face first into the small pond in the exhibit. He coughed and spluttered as the snake slithered out, curling over towards Harry.

" _Thankssss."_ It hissed at him before making its way towards the exit.

Harry heard more hissing, as well as people screaming and running. He was actually smiling and laughing. That is... Until he saw the look on Uncle Vernon's face. He knew that look all too well. He was in deep trouble.

* * *

Honestly, he was surprised his punishment was so tame. He expected to receive a beating or worse... But Uncle Vernon had just locked him back in the cupboard under the stairs. He had been locked in here for three weeks, no food, no water, and no chance to go to the bathroom. He could feel his body shutting down. He knew he was going to die soon. And his so-called 'family' didn't care one bit. Harry wasn't sure if suffering for this long was worse than being strangled to death or drowned... but it was certainly better than being beaten to a bloody pulp. He heaved out a wheezing sigh, shuddering with one final breath before his body shut down entirely.

* * *

The golden sand in the hourglass faded to black, freezing in place. A moment passed before it turned itself over, black fading to gold as the sand began spilling again.

* * *

Harry Potter woke up to the sound of banging on his door and the shrill voice of his Aunt Petunia.

"Wake up! Wake up, NOW!" She yelled before storming away.

Harry sat up slowly, putting his glasses on and looking around the room. He barely even noticed as Dudley barged in and jeered at him again. This was the day of the zoo trip... He had gone back by a few days before, but never weeks! This was when Harry finally realized he could use this to his advantage. Whenever it seemed like he died, he always woke up sometime before the actual incident that killed him. He could do whatever he wanted! It didn't matter if he got caught, because if the Dursleys tried to kill him... He would just wake up again.

He wasn't entirely sure if he should be happy about this. Every time he died, he felt like he was losing a piece of himself... a piece of his sanity. He still didn't understand how this was happening, but he was determined to find out. And he could start doing other things, too. Like eating proper meals and going outside. Maybe there was a bright side to this... He hurried downstairs, going through the same routine again. Making breakfast. Watching Dudley complain about presents. The trip to the zoo. Except this time, he didn't make the glass case for the snake exhibit disappear. And just like that, he avoided death.

It was time to start living his new life... by dying over, and over, and over again.


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

* * *

Barely a week after Harry's revelation, something very odd happened. He was getting the mail, as usual, when he noticed that there was a letter addressed to him. He tilted his head curiously as he looked at the fine handwriting. Who would be writing to him? He didn't know anyone aside from the Dursleys. Maybe it was some cruel prank by Dudley and his gang? No... their handwriting wasn't this neat. Aunt Petunia maybe? No, she wouldn't waste her time with something like this. He puzzled over the letter, carrying the rest of the mail to the kitchen and handing it to Uncle Vernon. He was just about to open his own letter when Dudley suddenly snatched it out of his hands.

"Daddy look, the freak got a letter!" He guffawed, giving the letter to his father.

"A letter? Ha! Who would be writing to YOU?" Vernon jeered, examining the letter.

Harry could only watch as his face formed a frown and drained of color. Then suddenly, he grew angry and tore the letter into tiny pieces. He muttered and grumbled to himself, pushing himself out of the chair and going over to the fireplace. To everyone's surprise, another letter came flying out of the chimney! It landed on the kitchen table in front of Harry, who was honestly confused by this turn of events. He reached for the second letter, but Uncle Vernon grabbed his wrist in a tight grip.

"Don't even think about it, boy!" He practically growled.

For the first time in his life, Harry glared back at his Uncle defiantly. He was going to read this letter, one way or another. Before he could say anything, though... the house began to rumble. Harry was a bit concerned. He wasn't doing that, was he? No, that familiar electric feeling whenever he did something odd wasn't there this time. This was something else. Out of nowhere, dozens of letters started flying in through the mail slot and the chimney, flooding the house. Harry used the distraction to his advantage, snatching the letter off the table and ripping free of Uncle Vernon's grasp.

"Get back here, boy!" Uncle Vernon bellowed, chasing him down the hallway.

Harry barely made it to the stairs before Vernon grabbed his leg, pulling him back down and crushing him in a vice-like grip.

"Let me go!" Harry cried out, struggling and squirming in Vernon's grip.

"NEVER! We're going to move away! FAR AWAY! Where no one can find us!" Vernon shouted, practically frothing at the mouth.

"Daddy's gone mad, hasn't he?" Dudley asked Petunia worriedly, both standing at the end of the hallway with mouths agape.

The letters kept coming and coming. It seemed like there was no end to them. But the Dursleys packed what little they could among the mess, Vernon keeping Harry restrained as they left Number 4 Privett Drive.

* * *

Another week had passed since the relocation and Harry honestly had no idea where they were. Just that they were on some isolated, rocky outcropping with a barely stable house that he was sure would blow away in the storm. But it seemed to be holding up alright at the moment. Harry sighed, rolling onto his stomach and glancing at the small, digital watch he had managed to steal on the way here. It didn't look that expensive in the window, so he hoped no one was missing it. Either way, he was counting down the minutes to his birthday. He snorted slightly.

"Some way to celebrate a birthday..." He muttered quietly, drawing himself a cake in the dirt.

He would be turning eleven-years-old at midnight. He didn't know why, but he felt like this birthday would actually be special for once. The watch beeped a few times when it struck twelve and Harry sighed again.

"Make a wish, Harry." He squeezed his eyes shut and 'blew out' the candles on the dirt cake.

He didn't really believe in wishing for something, but stranger things had happened before... So he wished for his life to change. He wished to get away from the Dursleys. He wished to go someplace where he could be himself. Just Harry.

BOOM.

Harry jumped slightly as there was a sudden knock on the door, though it sounded more like a battering ram. He heard his relatives awaken, but he couldn't care less about them right now.

BOOM.

Another thundering knock on the door. One more and it would probably come right off its hinges! Harry ducked behind the couch as he saw Vernon coming down the stairs with a shotgun, Petunia huddled behind him.

BOOM.

Sure enough, the door fell inward on the third knock and Petunia let out a scream as a giant of a man stepped through the door. The howling wind of the storm and a crack of lightning punctuated his intimidating appearance. However, despite his hulking form...

"Sorry 'bout that." He spoke with a thick accent, dusting himself off and putting the door back into place.

Well, Harry certainly wasn't expecting that out of the giant man. He was curious now, but still cautious, keeping himself hidden for now.

"I demand you leave my house at once! I will not have you FREAKS barge in like you own the place!" Vernon demanded.

The giant, unfazed, walked over to Vernon and grunted a bit.

"Dry up, Dursley, you great prune!" He replied, bending the end of the shotgun like it was a piece of rubber.

Vernon, of course, fired a shot, which ricocheted straight up into the ceiling. Petunia screamed again as it went off. Harry's eyes widened as the giant came lumbering over to the couch. He tried darting off and hiding somewhere else, but the man spotted him.

"Harry Potter? Is that you?" His deep voice rumbled.

Harry swallowed nervously, adjusting his glasses and looking up at the man.

"H-how do you know my name?" He asked.

"Oh, right! You wouldn't remember me. The name's Rubeus Hagrid." He replied with a nod, dropping onto the couch.

He pulled a simple umbrella out of his coat, but sparks shot out from the end and lit the fireplace. Harry's eyes widened.

"How did you do that?!" He asked, shocked.

"Oh, I can do more than that, Harry. And so can you! You're a wizard, Harry." Hagrid winked at him.

"I'm a... what?" Harry asked, clearly confused.

"A wizard! Son of two of the best... Poor Lily and James, god rest their souls." Hagrid sniffled slightly.

"Wait, you knew my parents?" Harry was starting to think he might be dreaming all of this.

"Sure did. Your mother and father were wizards, too, you know." Hagrid reply.

"I'm sorry, but... I think you have the wrong person. I'm not a... a wizard! I'm... just Harry!" He responded.

"Well, 'just Harry', have you ever had anything odd happen to you?" Hagrid asked.

His gut instinct was to say 'no', but after thinking for a moment, he realized that quite a few odd things had happened around him. He simply nodded.

"But... I don't understand." Harry murmured. "If my mother and father were wizards, then... How did they die in a car crash?"

"A car crash?!" Hagrid snorted indignantly, looking over at Vernon and Petunia as he stood from the couch. "So that's what you told the boy?"

"Well, obviously we weren't going to tell him the truth!" Vernon replied haughtily.

"Yes, my sister always thought she was sooo special! And having to look after her... FREAK of a son. It was dreadful." Petunia added, scowling at them both.

"McGonagall was right... You lot are the worst sort of muggle." Hagrid grunted, looking back down at Harry. "I am sorry about your parents, Harry... I'll tell you what really happened later."

"It..It's alright, Hagrid. Thank you." Harry replied.

A silence passed between them before Hagrid suddenly spoke. "Oh, almost forgot! I got something for you."

Harry watched curiously as Hagrid fished around in his coat, producing a simple white box. Harry could already smell what was inside, opening it and smiling at the misspelling of 'Happee Birthday Harry' on the cake.

"You got this... for me?" He asked.

"Well, it's not every day a young man turns eleven, now is it?" Hagrid pointed out.

Harry just nodded happily.

"Right then, Harry, you ready to go?" Hagrid asked.

"Go? Go where?" Harry looked up from his cake.

"Why, to Hogwarts, of course! School of Witchcraft and Wizardry." Hagrid said, walking over to the door and ripping it off its hinges. "Unless you'd rather stay here?"

Harry looked at the Dursleys, the cake, and then back at Hagrid. His smile widened. It looked like his wish had come true. He packed what little he had and followed after the giant of a man. Honestly, he didn't care where they were going, so long as it was far, FAR away from the Dursleys. If he could help it, he would never go back to them again.


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

* * *

After meeting the giant of a man, Hagrid, and seeing that magic was indeed real, Harry had expected a more... comfortable way of travel, not flying a motorcycle through a typhoon. It didn't help that Hagrid was trying to shout over the wind, rain, and thunder, deafening Harry more than he already was. He couldn't understand a word the man was saying.

Finally, after what felt like forever, they landed on solid ground. Though his legs felt like jelly, Harry immediately stepped out of the deathtrap motorcycle and stumbled into the nearest building, some odd bar named The Leaky Cauldron. Harry could only assume they were somewhere in London, but he didn't really care. Right now, he desperately needed sleep.

"Hol' on there, Harry. Don't go gettin' too far now." Hagrid grunted, dragging a large suitcase in behind him and slamming the door shut.

Harry took in a deep breath and let it out slowly.

"Thanks for your concern, Hagrid, but honestly I'm alright." He replied, barely keeping the frustration out of his voice.

Hagrid seemed none the wiser, nodding his head and going to speak with the bartender. In the meantime, Harry looked around the dimly lit establishment. It looked rather cozy, with a fire burning in a hearth in the corner. There were only a few people here this late, one in particular who was staring at him. Harry raised an eyebrow, staring right back at the man in the turban. He was about to ask the man what he wanted, when he suddenly stood from his chair and raised a stick in Harry's direction.

" _Avada Kedavra!"_ He yelled, a green light shooting towards Harry.

He had no time to react, the strange spell connecting with his chest and sending him to the ground, his body motionless as the light left his eyes.

* * *

The golden sand in the hourglass faded to black, freezing in place. A moment passed before it turned itself over, black fading to gold as the sand began spilling again.

* * *

Harry jolted awake with a gasp as the motorcycle landed, once again rolling to a stop in front of The Leaky Cauldron. What just happened? Did he die? He didn't feel any pain, just a sudden chill as that green light hit him. He barely noticed as Hagrid lugged the trunk over his shoulder, taking a step towards the door before turning back towards the young boy.

"You alright there, Harry? Look like you seen a ghost." He asked, snapping Harry back to reality.

He shook his head, trying to make sense of it all. It had all happened so fast, and now he was back again, with almost no time to avoid it. Would he come back if he was killed in the same way again? He wasn't about to find out.

"I-I'm fine, Hagrid." His voice wavered a bit and he had to take a moment to compose himself. "I don't suppose there's somewhere else we could go?"

Hagrid scratched his beard for a moment in thought.

"Well, I guess there's The Knight's Flagon a few streets down. Should do just fine, I s'pose." He answered.

Harry let out a sigh of relief and nodded.

"Let's go there... please."

Hagrid was a bit confused, but shrugged and got back on the motorcycle. Whatever Harry wanted, he wasn't going to argue. It wasn't far anyway. After a few minutes of driving, they pulled up in front of the other establishment. Harry quickly grabbed his bag and ran inside, not waiting for Hagrid this time, guessing the large man would take care of everything else. He ran to the top of the stairs and decided to wait there, eyes flicking back and forth quickly. There was no sign of the man in the turban, which put him a bit more at ease.

Why did that man want to kill him anyway? It's not like Harry did anything. Well, not anything he remembered... Maybe that was it. An act of magic from when he was too young to remember. Was that even possible? He supposed with magic, anything was possible... but if he didn't want to accidentally make anyone angry, or worse, he would have to learn to control it. That school Hagrid mentioned- what was it? Hogwarts?- was probably meant to do just that. But was Harry patient enough to wait that many years? With this rebirth magic happening to him, then maybe...

He shook his head. It was a stupid thought, but one he had to admit was tempting. Still, he probably shouldn't do that unless he had no other choice. Around that time, he heard heavy footsteps on the stairs, and looked up as Hagrid came around the corner. He gave Harry a concerned look, but Harry was grateful when he didn't pry. Hagrid understood when someone else needed time to think. He simply gave Harry a nod, gesturing to a room that Harry assumed they would be sharing.

Harry nodded in return, watching as Hagrid stepped into the room. He sat out in the hall for quite a while, just mulling things over. Finally, he stood up. He had decided. If he didn't want random men in turbans shooting killing curses at him, he needed a way to defend himself. While Hagrid was a good deterrent, he wasn't exactly quick on his feet. And Harry couldn't rely on him forever. He may as well get an early start when he could. With that in mind, he stepped into the shared room with Hagrid. Harry was lucky he had years of blocking out Dudley and Vernon's snoring, otherwise he might have had to sleep in the hall due to Hagrid's own snoring.

He curled up in bed, a proper one, and finally felt the tiredness in his body. With a new resolve and a bit of excitement for what the next day would bring, Harry quickly fell asleep. And for the first time for as long as he could remember, he didn't wake up screaming in the middle of the night. No night terrors plagued him and, the following morning, Harry had to wonder if the bad thoughts were frightened away by Hagrid's aggressive snoring.

* * *

Walking into Diagon Alley was like a dream for Harry. After a quick breakfast and some sort of secret code tapped into the bricks of the alleyway behind The Knight's Flagon, Harry got his first real experience with the world of magic. Crowded with people dressed in wizard robes and witch hats, along with floating candles, moving portraits, and even some magical creatures in some of the stores. Harry wasn't even listening as Hagrid mumbled on about some person named Dumbledore, and a bank called Gringotts.

However, he quickly discovered Gringotts was probably the most impressive building in Diagon Alley. The stone steps and marble pillars seemed akin to some Greek architecture Harry had glimpsed in a book once, and he had to wonder if the building had been around since the Rise of Rome- or maybe even before! Walking into the establishment surprised Harry even more than the grand entrance. Gold, silver, and ivory everywhere, along with short, menacing looking creatures that appeared to be bank tellers.

"Hagrid... what are those?" He couldn't stop the question from spilling out.

"Oh, those are Goblins, Harry. They take care o' all the business and gold of wizarding England." Hagrid answered, almost like he was reciting for a test.

Harry found the tone odd, but didn't give it too much thought as they approached a teller. The goblin raised an eyebrow curiously at the odd pair, but it looked more like a sneer to anyone unfamiliar with goblins.

"Can I help you?" Despite his small stature, his voice was surprisingly deep.

"Yes, er... gotta letter here from Mr. Dumbledore." Hagrid answered, handing over the letter.

This time the goblin did sneer, glancing down at Harry after a moment.

"And the boy?" he asked.

"Oh, right..." Hagrid suddenly seemed to get nervous, shifting his weight and looking from side to side. After a moment, he leaned in and whispered, "He's Harry Potter."

This time, both of the goblin's eyebrows shot up to the top of his head. He immediately schooled his appearance back to normal, not wanting to appear unprofessional.

"You understand we'll need to confirm this." The goblin commented.

Hagrid appeared to grow even more nervous, apparently losing his voice for a moment. Harry saw his chance to speak up.

"Excuse me, sir..." he addressed the goblin, "... I'm not entirely sure what's going on, but it sounds like you need to confirm my identity?"

The goblin couldn't be any more surprised if he tried. Here was, supposedly, The-Boy-Who-Lived, and not only had he addressed a goblin as 'sir', but it sounded like he had no idea how famous he was. This would need to be remedied immediately. He turned his attention back to Hagrid.

"The process won't take long, I assure you. In the meantime, one of our vault keepers can help you with your business." He waved a hand, and another goblin came scurrying over.

Hagrid seemed uncomfortable leaving Harry alone, but even though the goblin didn't come up to Hagrid's kneecap, he ushered Hagrid out of the room rather quickly. Harry thought the whole scene was a bit comedic, but he felt it would be insulting to laugh. His attention was brought back to the goblin teller as he cleared his throat.

"Now then, Mr. Potter... please follow me." He stepped down from his chair, still a good foot shorter than Harry.

As he led him out of the main lobby, Harry spoke up again.

"I'm sorry but... you know my name and I don't know yours." He rubbed his arm, feeling a bit sheepish.

Harry thought the goblin might be grimacing at him, before he realized he was smiling.

"Ripfang, Mr. Potter." He replied. "And the one who escorted Mr. Hagrid was Griphook." He answered, seemingly pleased.

Harry nodded a bit.

"And where are we going... Mr. Ripfang?" He asked.

"No honorific needed, Mr. Potter. Just Ripfang will do. I'm taking you to speak with Director Ragnok." He replied briskly.

Harry smiled a bit. "Then I insist you just call me Harry."

How many times could this boy surprise him in one day? Ripfang would soon discover it was more than he expected. Then again, it wouldn't be a surprise if it was expected.

"Very well, Harry." He nodded, stopping at an intricately carved mahogany door with gold inlay.

After a specific knock, a deep call of 'Enter' signaled for them to step inside. Ripfang entered first, bowing low as Harry came in behind him. Seeing Ripfang bow, Harry did the same. Immediately, Director Ragnok was impressed by this boy.

"Who have you brought me, Ripfang?" He asked, his authoritative voice commanding a swift and concise answer.

Ripfang almost had a feral grin as he raised his head and replied.

"Director, this is Harry Potter. We're here to confirm the validity of that statement."

Now Ragnok was grinning as well. Harry wasn't sure if he liked being stuck between two grinning goblins. Nevertheless, he took the seat that was offered to him and tried to mentally prepare himself. He had no idea what to expect. A silly thought flew through his mind, though Harry pondered if it WAS that silly. The thought of these goblins eating him was not a pleasant one. Harry swallowed nervously as the large door closed behind him, leaving him alone with these two goblins.

"Now then... shall we begin?" The Director asked, his grin slowly fading to be replaced by a serious look.

He was all business now. He would soon discover if this really was The-Boy-Who-Lived. But if it was an imposter... then he would be leaving Gringotts under a white sheet.


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

* * *

"I'm sure you have a lot of questions, Mr. Potter, and I'll try to answer them as best I can. But first, I believe an explanation is in order." Ragnok began, his long nails drumming on the desk rhythmically as he spoke.

He could see the young boy was nervous, shifting in his chair as though sitting on something uncomfortable.

"The reason Ripfang brought you to me is because we've had several wizards come in here and claim to be Harry Potter. They were, of course, revealed and suitably punished. I can only speculate they were trying to steal the wealth and, possibly, the fame of the Potter family. We won't know how far back your lineage goes until we test your blood. You are the last of the Potter line due to a very unfortunate event." Ragnok finally paused, gauging Harry's reaction to all this.

Harry had been listening intently and, as far as he could tell, the Director had been honest with him. He didn't know why the Potter family was famous, or what unfortunate event Ragnok was talking about, but he wagered the older goblin was about to explain.

"On October 31st, 1981, James and Lily Potter were attacked and killed by a dark wizard named Voldemort." Ragnok said, his eyes filled with a cold fury and his lips curled into a scowl as he spoke the name.

He quickly schooled his features, now looking more solemn and sympathetic.

"It's clear you were never told the truth and I apologize that you had to discover it in this manner." Ragnok said, bowing his head slightly.

Ripfang was stunned. It had been many years since he had seen the Director bow his head for any reason, and he glanced at the boy to see his reaction. He should have known the boy would surprise him again, though he never expected to see the boy bowing his head in return.

"It's... it's alright, Sir Ragnok." Harry replied. "I never really believed the story that my parents died in a car crash. It just felt... wrong. At least now I know they died fighting to protect me."

Ripfang heard the boy sniffle and saw him quickly wipe away tears with the sleeve of his oversized shirt. He thought the boy took the news rather well, though perhaps he was holding back his stronger emotions while in the company of others. He looked back to Ragnok, who spoke again after giving Harry a moment to recover.

"I assure you, your parents cared very deeply for you. A month before their death, they came into my office and spoke to me. They knew the danger they were in, but they wanted to make sure you would always be taken care of. They instructed me that their wills were to be opened and read when you came of age, but..." Ragnok paused, thinking for a moment. "With a blood test, and your permission, they could be opened today."

Harry looked up, a mixture of surprise and worry on his face. He had just discovered his parents were magical, too, but were killed by some dark wizard... why? Was there even a good reason? Or was the man responsible simply insane? He thought for a long moment, his head in his hands. Reading their wills... would it cause him more pain? What would he learn about them? Finally, he sighed and nodded. His life couldn't possibly get any worse.

"Very well." Ragnok nodded, motioning for Ripfang to get the proper materials.

Ripfang saluted and immediately got to work. He retrieved the wills of Lily and James Potter, as well as an intricate dagger and small bowl. Harry paled upon seeing the knife.

"Don't worry, we will only need a few drops. And the cut will be healed afterward." Ragnok explained.

Harry seemed to relax slightly, though was still clearly nervous as he held out his hand. He scrunched his eyes closed, waiting for the pain... but all he felt was a small prick and then nothing. He opened his eyes to see the blood in the bowl and no mark on his hands. He blinked a bit.

"That wasn't so bad." He smiled a bit.

Ragnok gave a quick grin as well, though his business face quickly came back into place. He and Ripfang took up positions on either side of the bowl, and Harry watched as they performed some strange ritual. He couldn't understand anything they were saying, but it appeared to be working as he saw different colors leaving their hands and seeping into the bowl. After a few minutes, they stopped and the bowl glowed a soft white. Ragnok then turned to him.

"It's been confirmed that you are, indeed, Harry Potter." He said.

For some reason, Harry felt relieved. He didn't know if they could have made a mistake, but it looked like everything had gone smoothly.

"Now... on to the more serious matter." Ragnok's face fell slightly as he held out the two scrolls.

Harry swallowed nervously. His mother's and father's wills... Hi hands shook slightly as he reached out, hesitantly, and touched each of them. With another white glow, the seal was broken and they both unfurled before him. Ragnok leaned back, leaving Harry to read them at his own pace.

Harry once again felt tears pricking at his eyes, but he quickly wiped them away. He needed to do this. The last words of his parents, their last act was to protect him. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, his eyes drifting over the slightly messy penmanship of his father first.

" _Dear Harry, if you're reading this then it means the worst has happened. I'm so sorry your mother and I weren't there to help raise you into the strong young man I'm sure you've grown to be. Know that we both love you very much and we always will. We hope you were raised in a caring, loving, and safe household. We left specific instructions on who would take care of you should we pass away. I truly hope those instructions were honored on our death, but a bad feeling in my gut has me thinking they were ignored or overlooked. We wanted to make sure you were always taken care of no matter what, so if our wishes weren't followed, there are legal options you can take. But I won't go into that... I love you very much, Harry. I know you probably don't remember me, but Lily was clever enough to include some of our memories. My personal favorite is when I took you up on a broom with me. Please be safe and always remember, true friends are hard to find. Hold them and cherish them, Harry. All my best. -Dad"_

Harry couldn't stop the tears this time as they flowed freely down his face, though it seemed the magical protection on the will kept it safe and dry. He felt equal parts happy and sad. It was almost as if he could hear his father's voice as he read the message. There were several more pages, but Harry could see those were the instructions his father mentioned. He looked to his mother's will next, wanting to read her message before anything else.

" _My dearest Harry, if you're reading this then it means we weren't careful enough. I would do anything to keep you safe, I just wish we could have seen you grow up. I love you with all my heart, and I'm sure your father said the same. There are some memories from your father and I included in these wills. It's likely you'll be with Director Ragnok when you read these, so please ask to use his Pensieve. It will let you view those memories. We've left everything to you, Harry. Everything that we could. We've detailed them in a list below. I know you're probably feeling lost and confused right now, but know that we will always be with you. Even the veil of death can't keep us away. We are with you in spirit, my darling, in your heart and soul. As your mother, I regret not being able to raise you, but your father and I arranged for very close friends to take care of you. I know they would do right by us. That is, if our instructions were followed properly. I have a feeling Dumbledore might have got around them somehow, but we're making sure these wills are ironclad. Once released, they can't be reversed. We want you to have the best life possible, darling, and I'm sorry we couldn't be there. I love you and James more than anything in this world. I just hope we managed to protect you. All my love. -Mom"_

Harry was once again caught up in his swirling emotions. Joy and sorrow battled for dominance inside him as he read his mother's neat handwriting, longing to see her face. He hoped their memories would provide what he needed... he needed to see his parents. He needed to know that they loved him and cared for him. He knew they did, he could feel it... but he needed to see. He looked up at Ragnok, his eyes red from crying.

"E-excuse me, Director." Harry paused and sniffled. "M-my mother mentioned something called a Pensieve. F-for viewing memories. Could I use yours?" He asked.

Ragnok observed the boy for a moment. He could clearly tell he was distraught, though he could also tell a massive weight had been lifted off the boy's shoulders. After a moment of contemplation, Ragnok nodded and snapped his fingers. A strange, silver bowl appeared in front of Harry. It was uniquely sculpted, with a silvery sheen of water floating inside. Ragnok demonstrated how to use it, placing a clawed finger against both wills and pulling out several thin, ghostly strands. After depositing them in the bowl, he gestured for Harry to lean forward. He did so, feeling a sudden pull as he appeared in the memories. Like he had been there. He supposed that yes, he had been there, but now he could actually see... He could remember.

The visions flashed before his eyes, one after another. He saw his mother and father playing with him as a toddler, as well as a man with long black hair and another with scruffy brown hair. He watched the black-haired man suddenly transform into a dog! Next was the memory his father mentioned of taking Harry up on a broom. Lily hadn't allowed them to go very high, but Harry was still amazed by the sight. There were a few more of them all sitting, talking, laughing... being a family. But the last one touched Harry to his core. It was just him cradled in his mother's arms as she rocked in front of a gentle fire, singing him a lullaby. Harry wanted the moment to last forever, but eventually he was pulled out of the memory and returned to the chair in the Director's office.

"Thank you." Harry murmured, his voice full of emotions.

Ragnok simply nodded, pulling the scrolls back over and taking a look. One eyebrow raised as he read over them.

"This is interesting." Ragnok commented.

Harry wiped his eyes and nose again.

"What's interesting, sir?"

"The seal on these scrolls was broken by your blood. As such, it shows your entire family tree and your full inheritance." Ragnok answered.

Harry tilted his head.

"Oh... what does that mean, exactly?" He asked.

"There are several family lines that were thought to have ended years or centuries ago. However, the Potter family seems to be linked to some of them. Seeing as you're the sole surviving heir, you have a claim to not just your mother's and father's inheritance, but others as well." Ragnok explained.

"Do... do I have to do a blood test for all of them?" Harry asked nervously.

Ragnok chuckled, though it sounded more like a sharp cough that startled Harry.

"No, my boy, I simply wasn't expecting it. And due to your mother and father adding certain stipulations to their wills, you have full control over what happens with these inheritances." Ragnok said.

Harry pondered for a moment.

"What would you suggest, Director Ragnok?" He asked.

Now it was the Director's turn to be surprised by the boy. To be fair, he likely had no idea where to start, but it was exceedingly rare to have a wizard ask a goblin for his opinion.

"I would suggest putting a block on these accounts, so only you- or someone you designate- can access them and remove funds or items." Ragnok started. "Also, there are several legal guardians listed in your parent's wills. A certain Albus Dumbledore assigned himself as your guardian ten years ago, but you can override this if you wish."

Harry's nose wrinkled slightly and he nodded.

"I don't know this Dumbledore person... I think I'd like to go with one of the people I saw in their memories." Harry said.

"Very well. Unfortunately, the one with the black hair- Sirius Black- is currently in Azkaban. It is a magical prison for very bad people." Ragnok explained.

Harry was confused.

"Wait, what? Why is he there? Did... did he do something?" He asked.

Ragnok hesitated for a moment.

"It is suspected he had a hand in your parents' death... but he was not given a proper trial." He replied.

Harry's mind was spinning. This man might have betrayed his parents? But they had all seemed so happy together... He seemed so kind and loving. Harry shook his head. He may have only seen a few memories of the man, but he could tell this Sirius Black would never betray a friend. Just as his father wouldn't.

"And what about the other man I saw?" Harry asked.

"That would be Remus Lupin." Ragnok answered. "He lives alone just outside of London."

Harry nodded a bit.

"I'd like to make him my legal guardian, then... Why did this Dumbledore say that he was my guardian?" Harry questioned.

"Unfortunately, I do not know. But since your parents' wills have been opened, I am at liberty to say Albus Dumbledore has been periodically taking money from your trust fund and paying people with the last name Dursley." Ragnok said.

Harry immediately felt anger bubbling up inside him.

"He did what?! He paid those... those... monsters?!" Harry stood from his chair, seething as he paced back and forth.

"There is no mention of the Dursleys in your parents' wills... I can only assume Dumbledore placed you there. Again, I must apologize, he was your guardian at the time." Ragnok said.

Harry whipped around to face him, but his anger quickly ebbed. He sighed.

"No, it's... it's not your fault." Harry sat back in his chair. "But I don't want Dumbledore to steal anything else from my parents. Is there any way we can get that money back?"

Ragnok grinned.

"I like how you think, Mr. Potter. Again, your parents did write specifically that everything goes to their son. Since Albus Dumbledore has unlawfully stolen from you, Gringotts has the right to reclaim any money he may have taken. Plus interest." Ragnok replied.

"Good... I don't want him getting into any other vaults, either." Harry added. "Oh, and I won't be going back to the Dursleys. If Mr. Lupin is my guardian now, I guess I'll be living with him."

"We can send a letter to Mr. Lupin and let him know the circumstances. He will need to come to Gringotts and sign off on some things as well." Ragnok said.

"Oh... how long will that take?" Harry asked.

Ragnok tapped his desk with his long nails.

"Perhaps a few days." He answered.

Harry chewed his lip for a moment before he got an idea.

"You said I had a trust fund. How much is in there?"

"Ten thousand Galleons. Or, in muggle terms, nearly 50-thousand pounds." Ragnok replied.

Harry blanched at that number. He also hadn't heard the term 'muggle' before, but he assumed it meant non-witch or wizard.

"And h-how much is in the other vaults?" He asked in a near-whisper.

Ragnok took a brief look at the family tree again.

"I would have to look up each individual vault to get specifics, but my best estimation would be... two billion Galleons, or 10 billion pounds." Ragnok answered. "Of course, this isn't including land or property owned, so the total is likely higher."

Harry nearly fainted when he heard that number.

"Wh-where is all this coming from?" He asked.

"It's likely due to the fact you have a direct line all the way back to Godric Gryffindor, one of the founders of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry." Ragnok said.

Harry looked bewildered. He had only just heard about Hogwarts from Hagrid, and now he was related to someone who founded it?

"I'm related to one of the founders?"

"Blood doesn't lie, Mr. Potter. I assure you, your family tree is accurate. As are Gringotts methods." He answered.

"Sorry, I... I meant no disrespect. It's just... hard to believe or understand." Harry explained.

"I can see this is a bit overwhelming. Here's what I would recommend: retrieve some money from your trust fund, find a place to stay tonight, and return tomorrow to go over more specifics. This is a lot to take in at once. This should give you time to think." Ragnok suggested.

Harry found himself slowly nodding along.

"A-alright, er... I suppose I'll take 500 Galleons for now and... be back tomorrow?" It was more of a question, though he felt reassured when Ragnok nodded.

His Galleons were quickly distributed, and Ragnok assured Harry that he would be working on all the appropriate paperwork for tomorrow. Harry found Hagrid waiting for him in the main lobby as he was ushered out, though he barely paid the man any mind. The whole conversation had taken two hours, but it had felt like much longer. Harry didn't feel like shopping today and told Hagrid as much, just wanting to return to The Knight's Flagon.

"Alright, Harry... whatever you say." Hagrid responded, leading the young boy back through Diagon Alley.

What had happened in Gringotts today? Hagrid had done his business for Dumbledore, but Harry seemed... a bit different. Hagrid chalked it up to his imagination, though he was a bit surprised when Harry paid for his own room. He didn't question it, though, figuring the young lad needed his space.

" _Remember, Hagrid, be his friend but don't crowd him."_ Dumbledore's words echoed in Hagrid's head.

So, he let Harry be for now, deciding to go down to the bar for a few drinks. Meanwhile, Harry was already in his bed, thinking over everything that had happened today. There was so much, he didn't know where to start. Eventually, he closed his eyes and just tried to sleep the rest of the day away. Though he was still looking forward to exploring the rest of Diagon Alley, he wasn't as excited as he had been this morning. He sighed to himself, eventually falling into a restless slumber.


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

* * *

When Harry returned to Gringotts the next day, he was surprised to see a man standing in Director Ragnok's office. From his appearance, Harry guessed this was Remus Lupin, but he looked far older than Harry expected. If he was the same age as Harry's parents, then he should be in his early thirties. Remus seemed to be going gray early and, overall, looked very tired but pleased to see Harry.

"Ah, here he is now. Welcome back, Mr. Potter." Ragnok nodded towards Harry.

Harry simply nodded as well, taking a step towards Remus. They were basically total strangers and Harry had no idea what to say... Luckily, Remus spoke first.

"Hello, Harry... Ragnok told me you saw a few of James and Lily's memories, but I'm sure you don't remember much about me." He said.

Harry looked sheepish as he shook his head.

"Sorry sir- er, Remus... should I call you Remus?" He asked.

The older man smiled and nodded.

"I would like that. Ragnok also told me you wanted to make me your guardian?"

Harry, again, looked sheepish.

"Well, you seemed like good friends with mum and dad in their memories and your name was on the list so..." He shrugged. "It seemed logical."

Remus chuckled.

"You sound just like your mother. With her wits, I'm surprised she wasn't sorted into Ravenclaw. Sirius once made a joke about her being sorted into Slytherin-" He stopped abruptly, his smile instantly fading.

Harry felt sympathy for the man. It was clear he and Sirius were close friends, maybe even closer than they were with his father.

"I'm sorry Sirius ended up in... in that horrible place." Harry consoled him.

"I don't think he deserves to be there." Remus sighed. "But there's nothing I can do to help him."

Suddenly, Harry had an idea. He turned to Ragnok.

"You said Sirius never had a trial?" He asked.

Ragnok nodded. "Or, at the very least, not a fair one. His judgment was passed rather quickly. Unfortunately, I don't know much more than that. You would need to speak to the head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement."

"And who's that?" Harry asked.

"Amelia Bones." Remus answered, looking at Harry with a bit of hope now.

"Is there any way I could arrange a meeting with her?" Harry asked.

Ragnok cocked an eyebrow, his mutter of 'You certainly are ambitious' not going unheard by Remus.

"That would fall on your legal guardian to file a formal complaint. We here at Gringotts only get involved with legal proceedings when they involve financial problems." Ragnok answered.

Harry looked at Remus expectantly. Remus felt a sudden surge of pride as he turned to Ragnok.

"I believe I have some papers to sign, Director." He said.

Ragnok gave a toothy grin.

"That you do, Mr. Lupin."

Harry sat back and watched as Remus signed several different documents. Ragnok briefly explained each of them, though they mostly said the same thing. Remus would be taking custody of Harry, provide housing and protection, and from this day forward would be considered his legal and magical guardian until death or until Harry came of age. However, the question came up of who would look after Harry should something happen to Remus.

"Sirius' cousin Andromeda would probably be the best decision." Remus decided. "She has a daughter who recently graduated from Hogwarts and should be able to look after Harry."

After that was settled, it was now Harry's turn to fill out paperwork. More or less, he filled out the same thing Remus had, declaring Remus his guardian and approving everything. Next, Ragnok pulled out a large stack of papers.

"After looking into Mr. Potter's inheritances, I've filed everything here for him. All that's left is for him to decide what to do with it." Ragnok said.

Harry looked at the giant stack and grew slightly woozy.

"Director Ragnok, do I have to fill ALL of this out?" Harry asked meekly.

Ragnok gave a sly grin, plucking a piece of paper from the top and placing it in front of Harry.

"Of course not, that would be cruel. This is a short summary of your assets. If you wish to see a more detailed list, I have that as well. Signing this just means you accept your inheritance and will receive any benefits forthwith, including protections, properties, as well as stocks and bonds." Ragnok explained.

Harry obviously looked a little overwhelmed.

"S-so... do I need to do anything other than sign?" Harry asked.

"At the moment, no. Everything else will be taken care of, I assure you." Ragnok reassured him.

Harry seemed to relax at that, giving his signature. After giving the ink a moment to dry, Ragnok rolled up the scroll and handed it to Ripfang, who in turn handed a small, wooden box to Ragnok. He placed the box in front of Harry and opened it, revealing two rings. One had a golden lion circled around a ruby, and the other had golden wings around an emerald.

"These are the rings for the House of Gryffindor and House of Potter. You can accept both or neither, and they will offer you protection as well." Ragnok said.

Harry looked to Remus, who was staring wide-eyed at the rings.

"Harry, I... you're related to Godric Gryffindor?" Remus asked, befuddled.

"I guess so... a long bloodline." He replied, rubbing the back of his head.

"Are you still planning to attend Hogwarts, Harry?" Remus asked.

"Well, I did get a letter... can I go somewhere else?" Harry asked.

"You could, but Hogwarts would be easiest." Remus replied thoughtfully.

"If I may," Ragnok spoke up, "The headmaster of Hogwarts is Albus Dumbledore."

Harry felt anger rising in him at the name.

"Is that a problem?" Remus questioned.

"Dumbledore put me with the Dursleys." Harry growled.

"He what?!" Remus exclaimed, shocked. "That's where you've been all these years?"

Harry nodded, trying to get his emotions under control. Remus just shook his head. He just couldn't believe Dumbledore would leave Harry with those... poor excuses for human beings.

"I suppose that's why Dumbledore always blocked me from seeing you." Remus lamented.

Harry looked to Remus.

"You... tried to see me?"

Remus just nodded solemnly, glancing to Harry.

"All he ever told me was that you were safe. I see it's a lie now, but... fighting against Dumbledore is like running through mud."

"Indeed." Ragnok grumbled. "I have no love for Dumbledore, he always thinks he knows best."

"I can't go to school with Dumbledore running it." Harry shook his head. "I won't do it."

"I don't blame you." Remus sighed, running a hand through his hair. "So, what should we do?"

"Couldn't you teach me, Remus? You went to Hogwarts." Harry said.

"Defense and maybe a few charms, but... you need more than that." Remus replied.

Harry pondered for a moment before looking to Ragnok. However, Ragnok was one step ahead of him.

"While I would enjoy teaching you, wizard magic is very different from goblin magic." He said.

"You said I could go somewhere else. What are my options?" Harry asked.

"Beauxbatons, but that's an all-girls school. And Durmstrang is... it's more of a military academy than a school." Remus answered.

Harry slumped in his chair. Wasn't there anywhere he could go in England? Wasn't there anything he could do? He suddenly sat up straight again.

"I could hire private tutors." He said.

"What?" Remus glanced at him, caught off-guard.

"Petunia got them for Dudley all the time because he kept failing at his private school! I could hire tutors to train me." Harry seemed excited.

Remus thought for a moment.

"Yes, I suppose that could work... But what about meeting students your own age? If I hadn't gone to Hogwarts, I never would have met Lily and James." Remus replied.

"If you advertise Harry Potter looking for private tutors, you may get dangerous individuals trying to get close." Ragnok spoke up.

"Didn't you say my inheritances gave me protection?" Harry asked.

"Yes, to a certain extent. But most of those security measures would be rendered useless if you invite any wizard to train you." Ragnok replied.

"Well, then we hire the good ones. Surely you know some, Director? Remus?" Harry asked.

Ragnok sneered a bit. "Unfortunately, I do not have the pleasure of dealing with many 'good' wizards."

Harry turned to Remus.

"The best ones I know are teaching at Hogwarts..." He sighed. "And they're probably loyal to Dumbledore, too."

Harry groaned in frustration. "Why is this so hard to figure out?!"

A silence fell over the room for a moment. They were all jarred from their thoughts at a sudden knock on the door. Ripfang hurriedly answered it, exchanging whispers with the goblin on the other side. Ripfang turned back to address the Director.

"Sir, it seems a muggle family is trying to open an account?" He said.

Ragnok raised an eyebrow and sighed. "If you two gentlemen will excuse me, I will return shortly."

He pushed out his chair, his swift step showing his agitation as he left the room, leaving Remus and Harry alone with Ripfang. After another moment of silence, Harry spoke again.

"I guess I don't have a choice... but if I'm going to Hogwarts, I want to be prepared."

Remus gave him a curious look. "What do you mean?"

"I mean I don't want Dumbledore getting any ideas about taking me back to the Dursleys. So, I need protection from him." He answered.

Remus was a bit surprised at his reply. Though, if Dumbledore had placed Remus with those people at such a young age, he wouldn't forgive the old man either. A minute passed before Ragnok returned.

"My apologies, a muggle family with a magical daughter needed to open an account." He explained as he returned to his chair.

"Oh, I've been wanting to ask... muggle means they don't have magic, right?" Harry asked, receiving a nod from both Remus and Ragnok.

"I didn't know you could be born with magic if your parents didn't have any..." He pondered.

"Magic works in mysterious ways, Mr. Potter." Ragnok replied. "Unfortunately, many wizards believe if both parents are full wizards- purebloods, as they call it- anything less than that should be treated as lesser beings."

"That's terrible." Harry said, distaste clear in his voice.

"Indeed. And many goblins are treated worse than that." Ragnok said, eyes narrowed.

"I won't treat you like that, sir. Nor anyone else." Harry said confidently.

Ragnok grinned a bit.

"You have my thanks, Mr. Potter."

"Um... pardon me if this is rude, but... could you just call me Harry? Mr. Potter feels weird..." he trailed off, embarrassed.

Ragnok gave a hearty laugh, though it sounded much more like he was choking.

"I say, you must be the most surprising wizard I've met! Very well, Harry, you may call me Ragnok."

Harry immediately felt relieved and smiled.

"Oh! Ragnok, do I have anything in my vaults that can protect me from Dumbledore?" He asked. "If I have to go to Hogwarts, I want to be prepared."

Ragnok nodded.

"There are several items that offer protection, these rings included." He gestured to them.

Harry nodded slightly reaching forward to put them on. As soon as he slid them on his hand, they glowed faintly and resized to fit him perfectly.

"Those are likely the most powerful items in terms of shielding your mind and body from spells and magical influence." He explained.

With a snap of his fingers, several other items appeared on the table. He went over them one at a time.

"This vest is made from Dragonhide. It will protect you from dragon's fire, as well as anything that may pierce your skin. Though, it obviously stands out. This cloak allows the wearer to become invisible. Very useful for hiding from foes or getting the drop on them. These spectacles enhance your sight and should allow you to see in the dark, as well as see the heat their body emits. This mokeskin pouch is useful for preventing theft. And finally, gloves made from the hair of an Abraxan. These winged horses are famous for drinking only single-malt whiskey, so the result of wearing these always keeps you warm." Ragnok finished, chuckling slightly.

Harry looked over the items, mouth ajar. He had always thought dragons were myths, and yet Ragnok mentioned them as though mentioning a common breed of dog! He found his voice after a moment.

"Is... is there a way to disguise these items? Or hide them in plain sight?" He asked.

"That would be the Disillusionment or Notice-me-Not charms." Remus answered. "They're considered fifth year spells, so they might be difficult to learn. Until then, I can apply them for you."

Harry looked exceedingly grateful, then he realized what Remus said. "Wait, does that mean you're coming to Hogwarts with me?"

Remus nodded. "I want to keep an eye on you. And I hear Dumbledore is hiring for Defense Against the Dark Arts. Let's just hope he hasn't hired anyone yet."

Harry couldn't stop himself from leaping from his chair and cheering, though he quickly settled down, blushing from embarrassment. Both Remus and Ragnok chuckled.

"Of course, these items are yours." Ragnok said, placing them all in a bag and handing them to Harry. "Though you will need a few more things before attending Hogwarts."

"That's right. Ready to go shopping, Harry?" Remus asked.

Now that everything was sorted, Harry felt things were looking up for him. He smiled and nodded, eagerly thanking Ragnok for his help before leaving with Remus.

"First things first... I think we should get you new clothes." Remus pointed out.

Harry heartily agreed, more than happy to get out of his cousin's hand-me-downs. They made their way to Madame Malkin's first, stepping in to get him fitted for his robes, while Remus went browsing for clothes that would fit Harry.

"Going to Hogwarts, dear?" Madame Malkin greeted him pleasantly.

He nodded, suddenly feeling shy with the attention.

"Don't worry, got the lot here. A young woman being fitted up just now, in fact." She said.

Harry simply nodded, letting her get to work with her measuring. It only took a minute, and Harry soon stepped down, going to look for Remus. As he stepped around a corner, he narrowly avoided running into someone.

"Oh, I'm so sorry-"

"Sorry about that, I-"

Two voices spoke at once and suddenly stopped. The girl with brown, bushy hair had spoken first, stopping in surprise at the response. Harry stopped talking when he realized this must be the girl Madame Malkin mentioned.

"Are you going to Hogwarts, too?" Harry asked.

She smiled, revealing her slightly-buck teeth as she gestured to her new robes.

"Yes, I just got my robes fitted. I'm Hermione Granger, and you are?" She asked.

Harry briefly wondered if he should give her a false name. After all, he was apparently really famous... he didn't want a lot of attention. He decided no, he wasn't going to lie.

"I'm Harry Potter." He grinned and shook her hand.

Hermione seemed mildly shocked, with her jaw hanging open, but she quickly shut it and returned the handshake.

"Well, um... it's nice to meet you." She shifted a bit, suddenly feeling nervous.

Harry felt a little nervous, too. "Yeah, uh... you too." He replied.

Both stood there, staring at each other awkwardly for a moment.

"I need to-"

"I should probably-"

They spoke at the same time, both laughing a bit at the mistake.

"See you later?" Hermione offered.

"I hope so." Harry agreed with a nod.

They each waved and went on their way, both happy that they had made a new friend. Or at least, that's what they hoped.


	9. Chapter 9

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

* * *

It didn't take long for Harry to find Remus. After browsing the clothes Remus found, Harry revealed he didn't really care what they looked like, so long as they fit him properly. Remus nodded, buying several different outfits despite Harry's protest.

"Honestly, Remus, I'm grateful but... aren't ten outfits a little much?" He asked as they left the shop.

"Come on, Harry, you never know when you might need certain clothes. And if one outfit gets dirty, you'll have something else to wear." Remus replied.

Harry sighed a little bit, but he had to admit Remus had a point.

"Alright... where are we going next?" He asked.

"Flourish and Blotts. It should have all the books necessary for a first year, and some more advanced material if you want." Remus answered.

Harry immediately lit up, and Remus got his first glimpse of Harry acting like an excited child. Sometimes, the man forgot that Harry was still only eleven-years old. He had been through so much in the past years, not to mention the last few days. He led Harry to the bookstore, giving him free reign of the tomes as he looked around for the required material.

Harry immediately started looking for the most advanced books he could find. He didn't know exactly what he was looking for. After all, he still didn't understand why he came back after he was killed. It had to be a curse, right? But all the books on curses didn't describe them, it just warned against them. He sat down and thought for a moment. Maybe it wasn't a spell or... maybe it wasn't written down anywhere. He shook his head. He should've known it wasn't that easy.

"Harry?" A familiar voice called out and Harry looked up in surprise.

"Hermione!" He immediately smiled at her. "Fancy meeting you here."

She blushed slightly, feeling giddy that he remembered her name.

"I imagine you're here to get your books as well?" She asked.

"I think Remus- er- my uncle is getting the required texts." Harry answered. "I'm actually looking for something else."

Hermione tilted her head. "Oh? What are you looking for?"

Harry scratched his head. "I'm not... exactly sure? I think it's a spell..."

She sat down next to him. "Could you describe it?"

Harry chewed his lip in thought. "Well... Do you know of any spell that lets you come back to life?" He decided to get straight to the point.

Hermione was caught off-guard by the question. She was curious as to why Harry was interested in that sort of thing, but her first responsibility was to help him find an answer.

"I don't know about a spell, but there was something mentioned in _Hogwarts: A History._ " Hermione replied.

Harry glanced at her, hopeful and a little surprised. "What was it?"

"Albus Dumbledore was close friends with a man named Nicolas Flamel. In the book, it briefly mentions he created something called a Philosopher's Stone. It doesn't go into detail, but I've seen mention in muggle books- which I thought were pure fantasy until I became a witch- about how a Philosopher's Stone can keep you alive or, possibly, bring you back to life." She cited off like an encyclopedia.

"That's brilliant!" Harry jumped to his feet, startling her. "Sorry, er... I just... Thank you." he said with a grin.

Hermione smiled as well, standing up much more slowly. "You're welcome. Although, if I can ask... why are you interested in something like that?"

"Oh..." Harry's smile fell. "Just curious, I guess."

She raised an eyebrow. "Harry... you're not thinking of _using_ the Philosopher's Stone, are you?"

"I... I don't know." He shook his head, not meeting her gaze.

She wasn't sure what to think. She had only just met him- THE Harry Potter- and he just said he might use the Philosopher's Stone. Well, not in those words, precisely, but he didn't deny it.

"But... why? Why do you want to use it?" She asked, her curiosity brimming over.

When Harry looked at her, it almost felt like he was looking into her soul. It was a long, hard look, and Hermione was certain he was debating if he should entrust her with the answer. She stood a bit straighter, determined.

"I pursue knowledge, Harry. I want to learn about what I don't understand. But before that... I'd like to think we're becoming friends. So, please, will you tell me?" She asked.

Harry finally looked away and sighed. Then, he looked back at her.

"I need you to promise that you won't tell _anyone_ about this." He said.

Hermione suddenly wondered if this was such a good idea. Clearly, this was very important to him. Harry was nervous as well. He had thought they were becoming friends, too. Was it really smart to tell her about what was happening to him? Would she even believe him?

"I promise, Harry. I won't betray your trust." Hermione replied.

Harry felt a little relieved at that, though he still looked around to make sure no one else was listening.

"Alright... here goes." He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "This is probably going to sound crazy... but I need to tell someone. I... I feel like I've **died** before. But every time I die... I come back. It's like... time reverses, or something, and I can avoid what killed me. It keeps happening and... and I don't know what it is, I don't know what to do."

He was sure she had left by now, writing him off as some lunatic. He wiped the tears from his eyes, surprised when he saw that wasn't the case. She was looking at him with a strange expression. Disbelief? Pity? He couldn't identify it, but it felt like she was analyzing him.

Finally, after a long moment of silence, she spoke.

"I believe you." She said simply. "I'm not quite sure what you're going through... but I do think you're telling the truth."

"You... you do?" Harry asked, barely able to believe it himself.

She nodded. "It sounds like whatever is happening has been happening for a while... I'm sorry, I'm not sure how I can help." She seemed genuinely disappointed.

"Well, you are going to Hogwarts... if you'd like, when we get there, we can start researching in the library about what this might be." He suggested.

Hermione's eyes immediately lit up at the thought.

"Of course! Hogwarts is bound to have more than Flourish and Blotts. Not to say they aren't a fabulous bookstore! I fell in love the moment I stepped in the door, but a full library in a castle..." She sighed. "It's a dream come true."

"Are you done with your shopping today?" Harry asked rather suddenly, surprising both her and himself.

"After I get my books, I think all we have left to do is get my wand." She replied with a smile.

"Would you mind if I came with you? That is- er- I mean- It's the same for me, really. Just need a wand." He chuckled nervously.

"I would be delighted." Hermione replied. "This is all so exciting! I finally made a friend."

He smiled a bit.

"Actually, I think you'll be my first friend, Hermione."

She blushed at that, not entirely sure how to respond.

"Um... I'll have to go let my parents know." She said.

"Oh! Right, er... I ought to let my uncle know as well." Harry replied.

She smiled again, giving a small wave as she walked away. He watched her go, feeling immense relief. He thought telling her about his... problem... would have gone a lot worse than it did. Instead, he made a friend he could trust. He briefly remembered his father's words: _True friends are hard to find_. He really hoped Hermione would be his first, true friend. He smiled, searching the store for Remus. He was pleasantly surprised to find his uncle already talking to Hermione and, what he assumed, were her parents.

"Oh, there you are, Harry." Remus said with a grin, inviting Harry over.

Harry suddenly felt a bit shy, giving a small wave to Hermione as he walked over. Emma Granger, however, didn't miss the wave and turned to her daughter.

"Dear, have you met this boy?" She asked.

"Yes mum... his name is Harry Potter." Hermione replied. "He loves to learn, just like me."

Emma smiled at that, looking to her husband.

"Hear that, Dan? Our little angel has made a friend!"

"Is that right?" The tall man smiled down at Harry, who seemed very interested in the floor at the moment.

"Well, it's a pleasure to meet you both, Remus and Harry." Dan said, holding out his hand.

Remus happily shook his hand. "The pleasure is all mine."

"We were about to go get our Hermione her wand. Would you like to join us?" Emma asked.

Remus looked down at Harry, who gave a small nod.

"I think that's a wonderful idea." Remus replied.

Emma, Dan, and Remus made small chit-chat as they left the store, Harry and Hermione trailing slightly behind as they walked next to each other.

"Hey Hermione." Harry greeted with a grin. "What do you know about wands?"

She almost seemed to glow, more than happy to launch into all the different sorts of wands. How they were made, what materials were used, and how wands often revealed certain things about the wizards that owned them. Harry, of course, was content to just listen, drinking in the wealth of knowledge she provided. He had a feeling that yes, Hermione could be a true friend. He just hoped he could be the same in return.

* * *

It didn't take long for the group to reach Ollivander's, apparently the best- or only- wand shop in Diagon Alley. Hermione went first, only getting one dud before finding a match in a 10 and three-quarters inch wand made of Vinewood, and a Dragon Heartstring for the core. Harry was a bit trickier to pin down. He tried several wands, but none of them seemed to work.

"I wonder..." Ollivander muttered eventually, removing a very special wand from the shelf.

He shuffled back to the front, offering the wand to Harry. As soon as he touched the wand, a warm wind whipped around the boy, and settled just as quickly.

"Curious! Very curious." Ollivander exclaimed.

"Excuse me sir, but... what's curious?" Harry asked.

"Your wand has a Phoenix feather for the core, Mr. Potter. However, this Phoenix gave another feather. Just one... It is curious you are destined for **this** wand when it's brother gave you that scar." Ollivander explained.

Harry's eyes widened and he ran a hand over the lightning-shaped scar on his head.

"You mean... Volemort gave me this?"

"We do not speak his name!" Ollivander inhaled sharply. "But it is said only great wizards receive Phoenix feathers for their core. And there is no doubt He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named did great things. Terrible, yes... but great. And I believe we can expect great things from you as well, Mr. Potter."

Harry just nodded, wondering this wand had- indeed- chosen him. Emma and Dan seemed a bit confused by the exchange, and Remus seemed a bit worried as he ushered Harry out of the store. The trio of Grangers quickly followed.

"Do you know what this means, Uncle Remus?" Harry asked.

"I'm not sure, Harry... I can only hope it's something good." He replied.

Harry wasn't entirely satisfied with that answer, but it was probably the best answer he would get... For now, anyway. His mood was lifted slightly when he realized he would soon be in school with Hermione, learning right alongside her. Remus had mentioned something about being sorted into different Houses. He sorely hoped he and Hermione ended up in the same one.


	10. Chapter 10

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

* * *

A week passed, and today was the day Harry would get on the train to Hogwarts. However, he and Remus had done more than a few things in that week.

Remus had disguised all of Harry's magical items, adding a sizing charm that would match his body even as he continued to grow in the coming years.

Personally, Harry thought the spectacles were the most helpful. He didn't realize how mismatched his previous pair had been, though he really should've expected that... considering Petunia only bought them so he would stop breaking things. Now, it was like he had a completely new set of eyes! And of course, Remus had charmed them so that they wouldn't come off unless Harry wanted them to.

Remus had taken a few days to visit Hogwarts and speak with Dumbledore about the Defense position. He had already hired someone named Quirell, but Remus argued that Quirell had no experience. He would be better off teaching Care of Magical Creatures and Hagrid could focus just on being Groundskeeper, making sure students stayed away from the Dark Forest. Hagrid was called in to discuss, and he was more than willing to follow Remus' suggestion. With a bit of tweaking, Remus managed to get the position just before term started.

Harry, meanwhile, had sent a letter via his new owl- Hedwig- to Amelia Bones, politely asking if he would be able to meet with her and discuss the imprisonment of his godfather, Sirius Black. She replied later that evening, saying she would be able to meet with Harry the next day around 1:00 o'clock so long as his guardian was with him. Luckily, Remus returned that morning and they both went to meet Amelia Bones.

Harry was currently shifting nervously in his chair, while Remus paced back and forth slowly, both waiting to be called into her office. They didn't have to wait long. Upon entering her office, they both took a seat at her desk. The woman appeared to be not much older than Remus, blonde hair pulled back and a monocle over one eye. Harry noticed that eye was blue, while the other was brown. She set down the papers she had been studying, looking them over for moment.

"Mister Lupin, Mister Potter. A pleasure to see you both today." She started politely, before turning her attention on Harry. "You sent a letter saying you'd like to discuss Sirius Black's imprisonment?"

Harry nodded, swallowing nervously.

"Yes ma'am." He replied.

She nodded, once again grabbing the papers and tapping them against her desk to straighten them.

"I have the report here, as well as a transcript of the trial." She paused, frowning. "I have to admit, it is... odd."

Harry tilted his head.

"Odd? How is it odd?" He realized that might sound rude, quickly following with a quiet "Ma'am."

She removed her monocle, setting it down on the desk.

"Please, Amelia will do fine." She gave him a reassuring smile.

That seemed to put Harry at ease. She continued.

"It is odd because the transcript is less than a page long. And considering the charges, I would have expected anywhere between 5 and 10 pages." She answered.

"What could this mean?" Remus spoke up.

"When Mister Potter sent me that letter, I didn't think much of it." She admitted. "But it was a well-known case, so I decided to give it a look. And when I started looking closer, I began to notice something troubling."

Both remained silent, waiting for her to fully explain.

"It seems to me Sirius Black wasn't given a fair trial. He was accused and almost immediately sentenced. Where was the Veritaserum to question him? Where was the testimony of the witnesses? It simply didn't add up. Then, I had a terrible revelation. The Minister himself needed Sirius to be guilty. He needed a scapegoat so the masses wouldn't come burning down his office, demanding blood for the traitor who killed the Potters." She stated grimly.

Harry grew pale, while Remus held his head in his hands.

"It can't be true..." He whispered.

"Sirius Black has already been in Azkaban for eleven years. It may be too late to reverse his sentence, but rest assured I will gather all the evidence at my disposal and call for a re-trial." She stated, determined.

She glanced at Harry, expression softening slightly.

"Your support would be greatly appreciated in this ongoing case. But if you feel the emotional burden would be too great-"

"I'll do it." Harry cut her off, clenching his fists.

When he looked up at her, his eyes were filled with resolve.

"I'll help you. Just save my godfather, Amelia... please."

She clenched her jaw and nodded. Shortly after that, Remus and Harry left the department. They didn't talk at all on the way back to Remus' apartment. In fact, the apartment was mostly empty. As Remus had already taken most of his belonging to Hogwarts.

The meeting was only yesterday, still fresh in Harry's mind. He knew the process would be slow, he just wanted to help as much as he could. He was suddenly snapped out of his reverie by a familiar shout among the otherwise unfamiliar crowd on the platform. He felt his spirits lift and a smile cross his face at the sight of his bushy-haired friend and her parents, greeting her with a hug.

"It's good to see you, Hermione." He said.

"Good to see you too, Harry." She replied, blushing slightly, though Harry assumed it was from excitement.

"Nice to see you too, Mr. and Mrs. Granger." Harry looked up at them.

"Oh Harry, please, Emma and Dan is quite alright." Hermione's mother smiled kindly at him.

Harry blushed, embarrassed.

"Where's Remus?" Dan asked, looking around the platform.

"Oh, he's already at Hogwarts. Getting ready for his new position." Harry answered.

"A shame we missed him. Do tell him we said hello." Dan replied.

Harry nodded, watching as Hermione hugged each of them, waving them goodbye as he walked with Hermione. Both had read how to get onto the platform, but since they were both raised in the Muggle world, they were a bit nervous about running towards a brick wall. Silently, Harry held Hermione's hand and gave a small smile. She smiled in return, feeling a renewed determination as they both strode quickly towards the wall...

And emerged on the other side, a beautiful train in sight. They quickly got on board, finding an empty compartment to share and setting their trunks on the overhead railings.

"Isn't this exciting?" Hermione could hardly sit still, almost bouncing in her seat.

Harry chuckled softly, fidgeting nervously as he sat next to her.

"It sure is. It almost feels like this is all a dream." He replied.

"Ow!" Hermione yelped, having quickly pinched herself. She beamed at Harry. "Not a dream, I'm sure of it."

Harry chuckled again, just staring at her for a moment. Whenever he was around her, his problems didn't seem so bad. Despite both of them being nervous and hardly having any friends, it almost seemed natural for them to be together. Harry was shocked out of his thoughts as the door suddenly slid open. It was a blonde boy, followed by two, slightly larger boys that appeared to be the same age.

"I heard Harry Potter's on this train. Are you him?" The boy asked curtly.

"Um- er- what-" Harry could only stutter, caught completely off-guard.

"Go on then! Spit it out, four-eyes." The boy sneered.

"Hey! Don't talk to my friend like that!" Hermione piped up, clearly affronted by his comment.

The boy turned up his nose, as if he smelled something foul as he looked at her.

"And who are you, bucktooth? Not a pureblood, I can tell just by looking at you."

Now it was Harry's turn to be mad. He quickly stood from his seat.

"Leave her alone!" He demanded.

The boy and his two lackeys laughed. "Crabbe, Goyle, looks like we got ourselves a little hero."

He sneered and crossed his arms. "Better watch your tongue, hero. I'm Draco Malfoy."

Harry had no idea who that was. "Am I supposed to be impressed?" He asked snidely.

Draco immediately scowled. "With that attitude, you won't get far. Better choose your friends wisely!"

"Funny, I was just going to say the same thing to you." Harry remarked.

Draco was tempted to take a swing, but he wouldn't lower himself to that level. However...

"Crabbe, Goyle, teach this little brat to watch what he says."

Before the other two could even move, Harry's wand was in his hand, pointed at Malfoy's nose.

"If any of you so much as move, all three of you will get a Stinging Hex right to the eyes." He said through gritted teeth.

Hermione was now watching with wide eyes, quickly standing and putting her arm on Harry's.

"Harry, no! It's not worth it... you could be expelled."

Harry glanced at Hermione and Draco looked insulted.

"You? You're Harry Potter?"

Harry looked back at Draco, lowering his wand.

"Yeah, what about it?"

Draco didn't say anything. He simply sneered, turning on his heel and walking away, sharply commanding Crabbe and Goyle to follow him. When they were out of sight, Harry suddenly felt weak and collapsed on the seat. Hermione sat next to him, looking worried.

"Sorry..." Harry apologized. "I don't know what came over me, I just... I was so angry."

Hermione placed her hand over his.

"It's alright, Harry, thank you for defending me... But don't scare me like that!" She smacked his arm.

Harry rubbed it, though it hardly hurt. "But what if they tried to hurt you?" Harry asked.

Hermione was honestly at a loss, gaping like a fish for a moment, turning away slightly as her face became beet red. After a moment, she cleared her throat, though she still couldn't look him in the eye.

"W-well, I suppose self-defense would be fine..." She muttered quietly.

Harry seemed to accept that answer, getting up to shut the door. He really didn't want any more interruptions. He was stopped, though, when a redhead boy called out to him.

"Hey! Excuse me, is there room in that compartment? All the rest is full."

Harry mentally sighed, looking at the boy and then looking back at Hermione. All he really wanted was to spend the ride to Hogwarts with her... alone. He turned back to the boy.

"No, sorry... all full." He lied, closing it suddenly and sitting back next to Hermione.

She looked at him with a raised eyebrow. "All full?"

He blushed, embarrassed.

"Oh, er... I just wanted... you know... to spend some time with you... alone." He replied.

"Oh." Was the only articulation Hermione could manage, hiding her blush and brilliant grin by looking out the window.

There was silence in the compartment for a moment before Harry spoke up. "Want to read _Hogwarts: A History_ together?" He offered.

This time, her full brilliant grin was directed at Harry. She quickly grabbed the tome and sat back down, scooting close to Harry... just so they could both read it. Of course, that was the only reason. They stayed like that for most of the trip, reading, engaging in small talk, just enjoying each other's company. And for Harry, it was probably the happiest moment of his young life.


End file.
